


100 Words of Pure Steele

by xffan_2000



Category: Remington Steele (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25595929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xffan_2000/pseuds/xffan_2000
Summary: Also known as my "Full Series Drabble Project." A "dabble" is a 100-word micro-fic. Here is one for each episode of "Remington Steele." Each micro-fic is a stand-alone, independent fic. They may be funny, may be serious, may be romantic, may be sexy, may be sad. But each one finds its roots in the individual episode that's listed. Intimate knowledge of the series is needed to fully understand each micro-fic, because in only 100 words, setting and setup is often assumed.
Relationships: Laura Holt/Remington Steele
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Season 1

LICENSE TO STEELE

With the gems again secured and Gordon Hunter arrested, Laura turned to the man at her side.

"You kept your word," she said.

He tilted his head. "Call it the con man's code of honor."

"Respect for the law?" The amazement wasn't hidden in her voice.

"Not the law. A fellow con."

"A fellow...?" Her smile faded. "Are you calling me a con?"

"An adept one, at that." He checked his watch.

"How dare you!"

"Embrace what you are, Miss Holt." He walked away, but glanced back to add, "Perhaps someday we can work together on an even bigger con."

++++++++++++++++++++++++

TEMPERED STEELE

"Monsieur Steele!" the maitre'd greeted. "No companion this evening?"

"She'll be along, Claude," Steele said.

Once seated, Steele asked, "Do you recall those brass nameplates?"

"Certainly, sir. When you first started coming here four years ago, you bestowed one on each of the delightful ladies with whom you dined. There were several."

Steele adjusted his tie. "No need for an inventory."

"No, sir." Claude paused. "Though, you refrained from giving Mademoiselle Holt one. I believe you said if you did, it would be your last."

"You have a remarkable memory."

"You are here to give your last nameplate, oui?"

"Oui."

++++++++++++

STEELE WATERS RUN DEEP

Laura listened as the man she dubiously called Remington Steele convinced Emery that the detective business was actually quite tedious, that Emery's skill with unit pricing and shelf strategy was invaluable to Arnok Supermarkets.

He definitely had a silver tongue.

His tongue.

She watched his mouth move over the words to Emery and thought back to their first kiss.

There'd been no time for tongues, but oh, what she'd love him to do with it someday...

For a moment, she reveled in the tilt to her world.

Get a grip, Laura, she reminded herself, he's not going to stay around.

++++++++++++

SIGNED, STEELED AND DELIVERED

"Now, tell me about this chap you lived with," Steele pressed again.

Laura just kept smiling a devious, secretive smile.

She knew he thought he had her figured out -- that she was an open book, easily read, no between-the-lines. Her slamming the cover closed seemed to bother him. A lot.

Her smile widened as she realized she had a secret past. Perhaps not as sordid as his, but a past that he desperately wanted to know. A past she could dangle just out of reach.

She chuckled at the irony.

"What's funny?"

"Gooses and ganders, Mr. Steele."

+++++++++++++++++++

THOU SHALT NOT STEELE

"No farewell kiss?"

Michael leaned in, brushed his lips against her cheek. "Take care, Felicia."

Stunned by his coolness, she studied him.

"Astounding," she breathed. "She really has snagged you by the heart."

He chuckled. "Ridiculous."

"Perhaps I should have given her that cat fight."

"Doubtful she'd fight back, my dear."

"Mutual disinterest?"

He shrugged noncommittally.

She fingered his expensive suit, remembered his luxury flat. She hadn't thought him a gold-digger, but Michael never passed up an opportunity.

He would live it up for a while then move on.

Perhaps back to her.

At least temporarily.

She would wait.

+++++++++++++++++++

STEELE BELTED

Laura leaned against the door jam. "You partnered with him?"

"Don't remind me," Murphy groaned.

"What could possibly cause you to voluntarily work with him?" She arched an eyebrow at him over her coffee cup.

Murphy shrugged. "He did legwork. Had evidence."

"All circumstantial," she reminded.

"It worked out."

She nodded, but didn't leave his office. "I can take care of myself," she said with a bite.

Murphy flushed briefly. "It had nothing to do with you," he assured.

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Okay." She approached then and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

She left and Murphy smiled.

+++++++++++++++++++

ETCHED IN STEELE

From his left, Laura complained, "I can't believe you're still reading that book."

"A riveting tale," Steele assured.

"It's self-aggrandizing drivel."

"That's rather harsh."

"I have it on good authority that he didn't even write it."

"A ghost writer?"

She nodded.

"My ghost writer doesn't plan on killing me, does she?"

She arched an eyebrow; he swallowed.

"But I haven't reached the climax of the story yet."

"If you'd like to reach a different climax, you have to put the book down."

He snapped shut the cover of Remington Steele's Ten Most Famous Cases and flung it to the floor.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

YOUR STEELE THE ONE FOR ME

“FYI, we received another C&D from Cooper.” Bernice handed Laura a letter.

“I thought we were past using acronyms,” Steele said.

Laura talked around him, “He lists the CDC and the FBI this time.”

“I called our contact and got an OTR report,” Murphy said. “Cooper’s EEG is showing abnormalities. He’s going to plead NGRI.”

“I see only one solution,” Steele announced, though no one noticed.

Laura shook her head. “It was all Q&D, what with their R&D out to the black market.”

Steele adjusted his tie, “Time to go AWOL.” He walked out, slamming the door.

Laura groaned, “FUBAR.”

*****

FYI = For Your Information

C&D = Cease and Desist

CDC = Centers for Disease Control and Prevention

FBI = Federal Bureau of Investigation

OTR = Off the Record

EEG = Electroencephalogram

NGRI = Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity

Q&D = Quick and Dirty

R&D = Research and Development

AWOL = Absent Without Leave

FUBAR = Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition

+++++++++++++++++++++++

IN THE STEELE OF THE NIGHT

The knock was unexpected, his visitor equally so.

“Laura?” Steele peeked over her shoulder, but she was alone, looking conflicted and melancholy.

He stepped aside, gesturing her in. “What can I do for you at this late hour?”

“Carl said something the other day…”

“Ah, yes. Carl. I do believe he’d be an excellent replacement for Mr. Michaels.”

“…about reunions being a time to reminisce about missed opportunities.”

Steele cocked his head, unsure where she was leading. “Carl has more missed opportunities --”

Her lips collided with his, her hands fisting in his robe.

“No more missed opportunities,” she told him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE TRAP

She opened her robe. “Do you think I need extensive work, doctor?”

He tilted his head, put a fist to his chin, studied her chest through narrowed eyes.

“I want to impress my…” She pinned him with her gaze. “…lover.”

He arched an eyebrow, but hummed in a detached, clinical way.

She brought her hands to her breasts, teasing.

“Laura…” he groaned.

“You broke character, Mr. Steele.”

“Never was fond of role playing.” His hands replaced hers.

“Then what are we going to do with all the honey and walnuts?”

“I’m sure we can still find a use for them.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELING THE SHOW

“How was your trip to Fantasy Island, Dimples?” Laura asked as Steele entered her office.

He’d been invited to spend the morning on the set of the show, watching Veronica Kirk film her guest spot.

“Veronica died,” he said.

“She always does.” She smirked at how someone could make a career out of dying in every role she played.

“No, Laura,” Steele said. He drew in a ragged breath that caught her attention. When she looked up, there were tears in his eyes. “I held her hand when…”

Laura opened her arms and Steele stepped into her embrace, tears falling.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE FLYING HIGH

Laura caught him fiddling with papers and tobacco, making a mess.

“I thought you gave that up,” she said.

“I hate letting things get the best of me,” Remington replied.

He licked a new paper without spilling and smiled, then held up the cigarette only to have it burst open at the seam. His shoulders sagged.

She shook her head. “For heaven’s sake.”

She grabbed a paper, distributed some tobacco, rolled, licked, twisted and handed him the perfectly done package.

His amazement turned to scrutiny at the suspiciously illegal-looking item.

She shrugged. “I went to college in the 70s.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

A GOOD NIGHT’S STEELE

Laura cracked an eye open, unsure of what woke her. She listened in the darkness, but there wasn’t a sound – which piqued her curiosity, despite her exhaustion.

She got out of bed and tiptoed to the living room.

Remington stood, facing the window.

“Problem?” she breathed.

“Insomnia.”

“Shall Doctor Holt take a look?”

She stepped up and examined the patient, feeling the familiar soft smile form on her lips. The bundle Remington held in his arms didn’t stir.

“Our son seems utterly content,” she said.

“Now,” he whispered. “Took thirty minutes of pacing the floor to get him this way.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

HEARTS OF STEELE

“Ulcer?” Steele asked as Malcolm Marcall sipped a glass of milk.

“Yes,” he said. “Retirement hasn’t helped and Judy, well... But we’re not here to talk about me...”

Steele fidgeted with his own Scotch glass. “I need some legal advice. And extreme confidentiality.”

“You and Laura?”

Steele nodded.

“I’m not up on the latest divorce laws.”

“Not divorce,” Steele corrected. “I need to legitimize a questionable marriage.”

“I’m not following.”

Steele shared shady details of Immigration, hookers, tuna boats, and forged legal documents.

Marcall looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled. “This finally seems like a job I might enjoy.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

TO STOP A STEELE

She liked confidence. So, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, like an Astaire and Rogers dance.

She liked debonair. So, he embraced her and bent her gently back, like Rhett and Scarlett on the poster.

She liked romance. So, he kissed her, like Bogie and Bergman in Casablanca.

Of course, he had to intrude. So, Laura pulled out of Murphy’s arms, made excuses, looked guilty -- as though she’d done something wrong.

After he left, she shook her head. "You and I, we’re not…"

"I know. But I had to try."

She liked him. So, Murphy stepped aside.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE CRAZY AFTER ALL THESE YEARS

Murphy clenched his teeth as Steele escorted Laura to the car.

“Your aura is such a downer,” Annie said lightly. She inclined her head toward the departing couple. “Remington has a very powerful presence.” She looked at him with glassy eyes. “Have you considered a transfer of auras from the total union of your body and spirit with his?”

Murphy choked. “Oh, hell no! Even if I was – which I’m not – I’d never with him.”

“That’s cool.” She touched his hand. “Have you changed your mind about making it with me?”

He considered, then nodded. “Yeah.”

She smiled lazily. “Groovy.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE AMONG THE LIVING

As the police cuffed Leo, Laura sighed.

“He’s exactly what I don’t want,” she said.

Steele couldn’t help himself. The idea of Laura bedding another man was too fresh in his mind. “Teddy?”

“No. Leo.”

“What about him?”

“Spent his whole life being a detective, trying to make good, only to fail miserably.”

He understood then. “You’re nothing like him, Laura.”

A moment passed, then she said, “Thanks to you.”

“I don’t...”

“The idea of 'Remington Steele' gives the agency credibility.” She looked up at him. “You give the agency integrity.”

He smiled. “Only because you give me reason to.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE IN THE NEWS

He looked her up, found her at a bar, sat down on the stool next to hers.

“Miss Fogelson,” he greeted, “if that’s what you’re still going by these days.”

She turned to him, looking surprised, then amused. “Mr. Steele. If that’s what you’re still going by,” she returned. “Been a long time.”

“It has.” He sipped his drink. “I hear you won a Pulitzer.”

“Did it the right way, too,” She grinned. “Got a job with the network now."

“Congratulations.”

She nodded. “Congratulations to you, too, on your citizenship.”

He smiled.

“That kid finally find himself?”

“He did indeed.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

VINTAGE STEELE

“It’s good to see you, Wilson,” Laura said.

“Five years,” he said, unbelieving.

“Time gets away...”

She looked good, he thought.

“What’s new?” Laura asked.

“I am senior VP at the bank.” He paused, the next part potentially opening old wounds. “I got married four years ago to Sara. We have a daughter.”

“Congratulations!” She sounded sincere.

“You?”

She averted her eyes. Eventually, she spoke. “I’m pregnant.”

“I’m...happy for you,” he stammered.

She sighed. “Typical Wilson, thinking I’m in trouble.”

“You’re...”

“Perfectly capable.” She stared flatly at him.

Slowly, he realized that yes, she had always been perfectly capable.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE’S GOLD

They wandered through the mall.

As they passed a jewelry store, Remington grumbled, “That’s the closest we’ll get to that gold.”

Laura looked around. “I’m astounded they didn’t halt construction when they discovered they were building over an Indian burial ground. The historical significance, the archeological treasures...”

“The actual gold doubloons.”

“It doesn’t seem right.”

They walked on.

He offered, “Perhaps the mall is haunted.”

“What?”

“The Amityville Horror, James Brolin, Margot Kidder, American International Pictures, 1978. Once they close the mall due to ghosts, we can come back and dig up the gold.”

Laura laughed. “Excellent plan, Mr. Steele.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STING OF STEELE

“Certain you won’t join me on a trip around Europe one final time?” Daniel asked.

His son – and he so seldom allowed himself to think of Harry as his son – shook his head. “I’m happy here.”

“Only temporarily, of course?”

Harry tilted his head, gave a little shrug.

“Oh, my boy...” he sighed. Daniel recognize the symptoms that he, himself, had thirty-odd years ago, when a dark-haired, blue-eyed Irish lass caught his heart.

That ended in tragedy.

He needed to spare his son the pain.

“Don’t let Linda capture you,” Daniel warned.

“Laura,” he emphasized, “already has.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE IN CIRCULATION

He felt the prickle of tears at the back of his eyes.

“Oh, Murph...”

“Sherry has that job in Colorado,” he reasoned. “And you and I…and him and...well...” He swallowed hard.

She moved close, put her arms around him, squeezed tight.

“It’s what I need to do, Laura.” His voice cracked.

“I know, I just... I’m going to miss you.”

He hugged her as much as he would dare.

“I love you, you know. Have for years.”

“Oh, Murph,” she whispered into his shirt.

“It’s okay. I know you love me, too.” As just a friend, he mentally added.


	2. Season 2

STEELE AWAY WITH ME (2 hour episode, 200 words)

On Mildred’s first day of employment at Remington Steele Investigations she came to a single conclusion: The boss was hot.

*Damned hot.*

After eons spent in the washed-out, pasty world of government service, Mr. Steele was an amazing sight for her very sore eyes. His tailored suits, gorgeous smile, and perfect hair – so unlike the overweight, sloppy-suited schlubs at the IRS – turned her into a puddle of goo.

On her second day, she snuck a peek at his ass as he walked toward his office.

On her third day, she caught herself replacing the mental image of the hero in her current romance novel with the boss’ handsome face.

On her fourth day, she calculated the age difference. It could work. If he was into older women.

On her fifth day, she opened the door to Mr. Steele’s office to deliver some files and found him and Miss Holt in an embrace. They guiltily pulled their mouths apart and sheepishly looked at her.

*Oh.*

Mildred felt hot tendrils of embarrassment creep up her face. Quickly, she bolstered. “The files you wanted, sir,” she said, depositing them on his desk and hurrying out of the office, shutting the door behind her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

RED HOLT STEELE

The rubble that was once Laura’s house smoldered. She stood alone, staring into the devastation. Remington waited nearby, watching wisps of smoke rise through the first light of day.

He barely heard the small, scared cry that came from near where the front door used to be. He approached what remained of the burned-out bushes and found Nero.

“Come here,” Remington said, grabbing the cat by the scruff.

He approached Laura, lifting his armload of feline.

“Nero!” She took the cat, cradled him close, rubbed her face against his wet, dirty fur. “Thank you,” she whispered through her tears.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

ALTARED STEELE

Steele always dissected other cons’ *modi operandi,* to compare to his own methods, to incorporate bits from multiple different sources.

Frank was an unexpected con. Natural talent for a variety of jobs allowed him to take on any career...and apparently make a good living at each one. It was the myriad of women that boggled Steele. Frank loved them, so he married them. Simple. He committed to each of them, in his own, twisted way.

Steele had never truly committed to anyone.

Then he thought of Laura. Over a year with her, with no intention of leaving. Ever.

Steele smiled.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE FRAMED

“I almost lost you today,” Laura said, feeling her heart pound against her ribs again. “It was my fault.”

Remington took her into his arms. “It wasn’t you. It was Descoine.”

She shook her head, but didn’t want to argue. Instead, she kissed him and pushed him back against the sofa cushions.

“Too close,” she murmured against his lips. Her hands stripped him bare as his hands revealed her. “Too damn close.”

Her mouth moved over his body. “Can’t lose you.” She took him in with a shudder, rode him slowly, as his fingers dug into her hips. “Love you.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

A STEELE AT ANY PRICE

“I don’t get it,” she said, staring at the artwork.

Before her, standing seven feet tall, were three white shop vacuums, inside clear plexiglass boxes, all piled atop one another.

“It’s meant to illustrate the futility of life,” Steele explained.

She switched from staring at the art to staring at him. “You extrapolated that from a stack of Hoovers?”

“No, from the artist’s notes.” He held up the museum brochure.

She pursed her lips. “How can a pile of vacuums be art?”

“Aesthetics.”

“I think ‘clever marketing’ is more apt.”

Steele shrugged. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

LOVE AMONG THE STEELE

Remington drove them up the mountains, the Auburn’s top down, wind in their hair.

His hand rested on Laura’s knee. She adjusted her legs, her hand toying with his, nudging him. He slid his palm up her leg, past the hem of her skirt, felt where stockings gave way to skin. Higher, his fingers came in contact with bareness, causing him to overcorrect on a curve, squealing the tires.

“Might want to pull over, Mr. Steele,” she suggested.

He skidded to a halt at the first available spot.

“I have the will,” she told him. “Ready to find the way?”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

SCENE STEELERS

Remington clicked off the television after the commercial ended.

“The E.T. of frozen food?” Laura questioned. “It was thirty seconds of bad writing and forced romance to promote a tasteless TV dinner.”

He tilted his head. “I could see how the commercial series would be popular. You must admit, Heather and Derek do have some good on-screen chemistry.”

“But they despise each other in real life,” she pointed out. “Jealousy, bickering, delayed filming due to huge egos...”

He shrugged. “Not everyone gets along as well with their partner as we do.”

“Actors,” Laura said with a roll of her eyes.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE KNUCKLES AND GLASS JAWS

“Being a lefty is an asset in this business,” Hammer coached from the ringside.

Steele raised his gloved hands and motioned at Laura. “Try again.”

Laura reared back with her gloved fist and punched, to little effect.

She dropped her arms, defeated. “I’ll stick to running.”

“Once more,” Hammer coaxed.

She sighed and raised her hands.

“Hey, Steele!” Hammer called.

Steele’s defense lowered as he glanced toward Hammer. Laura’s fist jabbed out, smacking him in the jaw, dropping him to the mat.

He stared up at her, rubbing his cheek.

“Distractions are an asset, too,” Hammer smiled, winking at her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

MY FAIR STEELE

The music swelled and the movie went dark, Eliza having returned to Henry.

“I never thought it would work in real life,” Laura said.

“Are you saying people can’t change?” Remington asked.

“Of course people can change,” she explained, “but other people can’t force it. A person has to want to change or all the window dressing in the world doesn’t make any difference in the end.”

“Roxie wanted to change to save Tracy,” Remington pointed out.

“That’s why it worked: love. For a sister she’d never met.”

Remington nodded and took her hand. “That’s why it’s working for me.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE THREADS

*So many things he should have told her,* he’d cried.

To Laura’s shock, Remington did tell her. Told her everything. Too much, perhaps. Things she couldn’t begin to process through all the emotions – his, hers, theirs.

After so many words spoken, she understood that his past didn’t matter, but their future did. She kissed him, held him, loved him with her body and soul.

Now, on her side – because being on her back hurt too much – she faced him. Despite their coupling, she could see his fear of rejection.

“I love you,” were her first words of their new life.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE ELIGIBLE

Laura looked into his glazed eyes. The pain medication had lowered his defenses.

“Were you serious?” She asked, knowing she’d never have the courage if he were sober.

“’bout wha?”

She swallowed but maintained eye contact. “About asking me to marry you.”

Remington frowned and rolled his eyes up, emulating the concentration of a toddler. “Oh!” he said, smiling, “I r’meber that!” He fell silent, a satisfied grin on his lips.

“Mr. Steele…?”

“Humm?”

“Were you serious?”

“Yup,” he confirmed, then he lowered his brow seriously. “Would you?”

“You won’t remember this, will you?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Yes.”

++++++++++++++++++++++

HIGH FLYING STEELE

“Mildred! You have returned!” Madame Leota gestured to the plush seat across from her. “Sit. We shall begin.”

Mildred sat and the fortune teller took her hand, turned it palm up, touched along the lines.

“You are unhappy at work.”

That was nothing new. “Yes.”

Leota looked closer. That was new.

“I see a man.”

Mildred got excited.

“And a woman.”

Mildred deflated.

“Your kids.”

“I don’t have...”

“They will need you very soon.”

Leota held out her hand. Reluctantly, Mildred paid her. Leota had never been so wrong before. Mildred sadly returned to her cubicle at the IRS.

++++++++++++++++++++++

BLOOD IS THICKER THAN STEELE

He stared at the stars overhead. Even with the hard ground beneath his back and the frigid air nipping at the exposed skin of his face, he could still enjoy the night sky.

The first night he’d run away from the orphanage, he’d nearly frozen to death. Only forcing himself to stay awake to count the stars kept him alive.

“Which one is that?” the boy beside him asked, pointing upward.

“Orion.” Remington took the boy’s hand and aimed it toward the center of the constellation. “See his belt?”

“I do!” The boy laughed. “Thanks for taking me camping, Dad.”

+++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE SWEET ON YOU

From the sofa, Laura listened to the voices in her bedroom.

Words were muffled, but the sentiment was obvious. Clipped sentences in Frances’ angry tone, Donald’s gruff replies.

Embarrassingly, she could relate to fighting with Remington. Often.

Silence fell, but later the voices began again. Softer this time, apologetic. Sniffles from Frances and soothing noises from Donald. The sound of lips engaging.

Kissing and making up -- she and Remington were experts at that.

More whispers.

A giggle.

A *groan.*

Laura pulled the pillow over her head. Someday, she and Remington really needed to get as far as the makeup sex.

+++++++++++++++++++++

ELEGY IN STEELE

Remington fell to his knees before Descoine, unable to form words.

“I realized all my meticulous planning was useless,” the Major said. “Elaborate plans thwarted by you and Miss Holt wasted everyone’s time.”

Remington choked out a cry and grabbed for Descoine’s legs with his bloody hands.

Descoine merely side-stepped and raised the shotgun to Remington’s temple. “This is – obviously – messy, but infinitely more direct.”

Descoine pulled the trigger.

A click.

A maniacal laugh.

“Now, Mr. Steele, you will know my pain for my dear Lily.”

He walked away, dropping the shotgun with a rattling clatter next to Laura’s body.

+++++++++++++++++++++

SMALL TOWN STEELE

Laura opened the cover of *No Thanks, DeNada* by Professor Arthur Thickett.

“Dedicated to Remington Steele, Laura Holt, and Mildred Krebs, without whom a murderer would have gone unpunished,” she read.

“The DeNada library is hosting a book signing for him,” Mildred commented.

Steele huffed. “After his exposé on the town, they’re inviting him back?”

Laura said, “We’re invited, too.”

“Seems suspicious,” Steele grumbled. “We’re to believe these fine folks happily accepted that their long-kept secret was revealed and their multi-million dollar payout was replaced with a finder’s fee?”

“You said it yourself: just like a Frank Capra movie.”

+++++++++++++++++++++

MOLTEN STEELE

“Tell me you plagiarized this,” Laura said as she flipped the pages.

“Lord Marchmane is no plagiarist,” Remington said with mock offense.

“He’s certainly a masochist.”

“Never desired to be tied down and ravished, Miss Holt?”

“Have you?” she countered.

He swallowed.

She put down the papers. “Is that...one of your fantasies?”

A long pause. Then: “If you were the one doing the ravishing.”

“All the times we’ve...and you’ve never mentioned...”

“It’s a little embarrassing for a man to...”

She stood, pulled his tie from his neck, then turned to the office door. “Tonight. My loft. You’re mine.”

+++++++++++++++++++++

DREAMS OF STEELE

Everything hurt. She tried to move and regretted it.

“Hey,” a voice whispered.

Laura opened an eye to see a woman in scrubs next to her.

“Wha’ ‘appened?”

The nurse smiled. “You had a nasty fall off a building. Miraculously, you didn’t break anything.”

“The other...?”

“Alive, but more broken than you.”

Laura grunted happily.

“Your husband said she’ll be arrested as soon as she’s awake.”

“My what?”

The nurse nodded toward the corner.

Laura moved just enough to see Remington sleeping soundly in a wooden chair.

“He’s not left your side. He’s a keeper.”

“Yes,” Laura agreed, “he is.”

+++++++++++++++++++++

WOMAN OF STEELE

“She betrayed me,” Steele said, breaking the long silence between them. “Twice.”

“Yes,” Laura said. She knew the sting of betrayal. But her father and Wilson both seemed to pale in comparison to Anna.

Conversation lapsed again as they sipped their wine.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved,” he said. “I just... I wasn’t...”

“I understand.” She’d acted oddly when Wilson had returned.

He put down his glass and scrubbed his face with his hands.

“I loved her,” he admitted. “The only woman I ever truly loved.”

*Speaking of betrayal...*

He turned to her, took her hand.

“Until you.”

+++++++++++++++++++++

HOUNDED STEELE

“You expect me to rent footwear?” Steele balked.

“They’re sanitized,” Laura pointed out.

Steele looked at the multi-colored shoes distastefully.

“We’re doing this for Mildred,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “Yes, yes, very well.”

To his surprise, not only was he greeted at the lane by Mildred and the Dragon Ladies, but also Kevin Masters (minus Doolittle).

He sat next to the older thief. “Didn’t expect you here.”

Masters shrugged, his sparkling eyes darting to Mildred. “Sometimes it just takes the right woman to get you to try new things,” he said.

Steele’s eyes traveled to Laura. “Indeed,” he agreed.

+++++++++++++++++++++

ELEMENTARY STEELE

Remington arrived at her loft with a single rose.

Laura opened the door. After a look that said she was both still upset about the money he’d spent, but that yes, he was forgiven, she invited him in. She took the flower, put it in a vase, and offered him tea.

“I would be very jealous, you know,” he admitted, as she stood before him with two steaming cups, “if some other man caught your attention.”

She sat, put the cups on the table, took his face between her palms. “No other man will catch my attention.” She kissed him.


	3. Season 3

STEELE AT IT

Fireworks lit the sky, celebrating the Cannes Film Festival’s opening.

In their room, Remington and Laura saw fireworks of a different sort.

Her legs still wrapped around his hips, his hardness beginning to wane inside her, she gazed up at him, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“A better ending than the last time we were here?” she asked.

He dropped his forehead to hers. “Immensely.”

“We did give it a week,” she noted.

“Six weeks, four days, thirteen...”

She stopped him with a kiss.

“Admit it,” he said, “we do our best work when the boardroom is the bedroom.”

***In 1985, the Cannes Film Festival began on Wednesday, May 8, and ended on Monday, May 20. Fits well enough with the muddled season three timeline, I suppose.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

LOFTY STEELE

Her heart pounded when they loaded her into the squad car.

Her fingers shook as they took her prints.

Her teeth chattered during the mug shot.

She sat in a corner of the holding cell, well away from the other inmates.

Relief flooded her when her employers arrived to rescue her.

“Sorry it took so long to bail you out, Mildred,” Miss Holt said, the look on her face asking for forgiveness.

Mr. Steele wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

“Solid as a rock,” she lied. “A little time in the slammer can’t rattle Krebs.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

MALTESE STEELE

“Why’d Edvard have to be such a dirtbag?” Mildred grumbled, staring into her glass.

“Margaret didn’t turn out much better,” Steele said, taking a swig from his own glass.

“It’s sad when people pretend to be something they’re not. Don’t you agree, boss?”

She looked up and he saw unshed tears in her eyes, then saw him swallow the emotion.

The moment hung between them, heavy and long.

Then she slugged down her entire drink in one gulp, physically shook herself, and replaced her frown with a smile. “I’m just glad you and Miss Holt are so honest with me.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

SECOND BASE STEELE

St. James was on deck. He wanted a grand slam when he was at the plate, but he bunted. Despite this, he made it to first base.

Boggs made a force play, moving them around, and St. James unexpectedly found himself at second base.

They were unsure how to make it to third. So, Boggs tried a hidden ball trick, making St. James groan. She then stole a base and had his bat well in her hands.

St. James took a lead off and made no errors as he slid home.

“Home run, Mr. Steele,” Laura whispered in his ear.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

BLUE BLOODED STEELE

As they walked back to the house, Steele pulled Daniel away from the others. “You had the audacity to tell Laura the only thing I want from her is sex and that I’ll leave as soon as I’ve had her?”

“Isn’t that our way, my boy?”

Steele scowled.

“It’s been years,” Daniel reasoned. “Scratch the itch and be done with it already. You’ve spent too long in one place. She’s not worth it.”

Steele clamped his hand on Daniel’s forearm. “Never,” he hissed, “say that about her.”

“My god, Harry,” Daniel breathed. “You *love* her.”

Steele’s nod was almost imperceptible.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE YOUR HEART AWAY

The cabin was dark, the other passengers sleeping as they flew back to Los Angeles.

He stared at the pocket watch in his hand. He’d been *so close* to knowing...

“You don’t know your own name,” Laura said. It wasn’t a question, not an accusation, just a flat statement in a sad voice.

He shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “for assuming the worst.”

“You had no reason to think otherwise.”

They lapsed into silence.

Later, she took his hand, laced her fingers through his, looked at him in the dim light.

“To me, you’ll always be Remington Steele.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

A POCKETFUL OF STEELE

The kid was nine and had no business being on the streets alone. But there he was. Dirty, wearing torn clothes, and sporting a black eye.

Thelma handed him an ice bag for his bruised face. “You’re too young for this.”

He dipped into his jacket and pulled out three wallets. “But I’m good.”

“Good enough to get yourself pummeled.”

“I got away,” he said defiantly.

“Go see this guy.” Thelma scribbled a name and address on a piece of paper.

The kid seemed skeptical.

“He and his girlfriend have a soft spot for mongrels. They did wonders for Jackie.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

PUZZLED STEELE

When he thought about it, Steele had to admit it made sense. Wainwright’s plan to kill Anna, leaving Moreland to grieve, was a far more brutal revenge.

He glanced at Laura, who lounged against his side as the gondola cruised over the water.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but her presence in his life had become a certainty; and if something were to happen to her, she’d leave an unfillable void in his heart.

Despite their “agreement” to keep things professional, he slipped his hand into hers.

She sighed and leaned into him, her fingers tightening around his.

+++++++++++

CAST IN STEELE

Reading was the one luxury he was allowed. Newspapers were his favorite, despite the fact the information contained in the ones he read could hardly be considered “news” any longer.

Today, in a paper dated four weeks prior, he read about a murdered woman. In something akin to a slapstick comedy, the reporter relayed how former Hollywood stars, with the help of Remington Steele, had found the killer.

It was unfortunate that Steele had lived through the escapade. Laura Holt was alive, too.

Descoine laughed, because eventually he would be free and he would bring down Steele and Holt.

Permanently.

+++++++++++

BREATH OF STEELE

Toni, Teri, and Mildred left after the “show,” leaving Laura and Steele to clean up.

Laura yawned as they gathered plates and glasses. “It was your birthday, but I’m the one feeling old. They’re what? Twenty? They stay up all night, sing and dance all day. So much energy...” She shook her head.

“You’ve got plenty of energy, Miss Holt,” he assured. “All night stakeouts, running down criminals, dodging bullets,” he nudged her shoulder with his, “avoiding my advances.”

She smiled. “You’re right. I’m not over the hill yet.”

“No,” he agreed, “but how about we climb that hill together?”

+++++++++++

LET’S STEELE A PLOT

He was there when she came home, standing in her loft. His leather jacket exposed his hairy chest, and Laura could tell he was already aroused in his tight jeans.

He strode over and slid the door closed with a cocky self-confidence that unnerved her. He grabbed her head, kissed her hard. Then, he pressed her shoulders.

“On your knees, woman!”

She sank down, tentatively touched his bulging crotch.

She sighed. “This isn’t working for me.”

“I thought you wanted forceful.”

She looked up. “Not like this from you.”

Remington nodded.

She fondled him and suggested. “A different fantasy, perhaps?”

+++++++++++

GOURMET STEELE

The invitation to dinner was encouraging. The thought of Laura cooking that dinner concerned him.

The smell struck him when door opened; but before he could comment, she sat him down and put a plate in front of him.

The presentation of the salmon, potatoes, and greens seemed *practiced.*

He poked at the salmon with his fork, then cut into it. It was cooked *properly.*

He took a cautious bite.

“Laura, this is...amazing.” He tried the potatoes and then the greens. They were all *wonderful.* Unexpectedly, shockingly wonderful. “How did you...?”

She grinned proudly. “Anna Dix gave me some lessons.”

+++++++++++

STRONGER THAN STEELE

Laura had rearranged his Wall of Fame, adding a shelf to the center. She was placing a gaudy Atomic Man Scepter on the display.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Maxwell gave it to me.”

“I thought it was evidence in Spooner’s murder.”

“This is a different one.”

“How many did Maxwell have?”

She shrugged. “Not sure. There were dozens, maybe hundreds, used throughout the series.”

Steele huffed, unimpressed.

“If Humphrey Bogart gave you a Maltese Falcon, would it mean any less to you because there were fifty falcons?”

“Point taken,” he said. “But a falcon isn’t as obnoxious as that scepter.”

+++++++++++

HAVE I GOT A STEELE FOR YOU

“I’ve got it!” Mulch announced over dinner.

“I’m sure I don’t want it,” Steele said.

“What are you talking about?” Mildred asked.

“He’s a great detective *and* a fantastic cook.”

Steele grinned at Laura, who rolled her eyes.

“Cookware! Stainless Steele – with an “e” – Industrial Cookware! We can get them into all the prisons.”

Laura choked. “Excuse me?”

“That way, the perps he’s put away will be eating food made in *his* pans.” Mulch stood. “I gotta go get this started.”

Laura gave Steele a look.

Steele took a bite of his steak. “He’s right. I am a good cook.”

+++++++++++

SPRINGTIME FOR STEELE

“I can’t believe it,” Laura said, closing the *Billboard* magazine.

“Rocky Sullivan,” said Steele, “who could barely screech out a Connie Francis song, actually has talent as a songwriter.”

Mildred added, “Multiple songs in the Top 40 over the past two years. One at number four now.”

“Guess we should have gotten a piece of the Rock when we had the chance,” Laura sighed.

“Who’s sorry now, eh, Mrs. Steele?” Steele lamented.

Mildred presented a spreadsheet. “When I diversified the investments...”

“You bought pigs,” Steele reminded.

“And Rocky. We own 7.5% of her.”

Steele grinned. “You’re forgiven for the pigs.”

+++++++++++

STEELE IN THE FAMILY

Bernard perused the ledger. “This $10,000 payment well exceeds your normal fee.”

Clarissa nodded. “A special job.”

He knew it wasn’t his place to ask, but he was always concerned when unusual line items appeared on his client’s books. It meant something unseemly, painful, or dangerous.

“You’re okay, right?”

“I’m fine. The lady and I have an arrangement.”

He coughed. “Lady? I didn’t think you...”

“It’s complicated,” she said. “Let’s just say I was supposed to get $5000 to pretend to marry somebody. Instead, his girlfriend doubled the fee to ensure my story lines up with theirs, should anybody ask.”

+++++++++++

DICED STEELE

“Straight,” Steele said, laying his cards on the table triumphantly.

“Full house,” Laura returned, showing three eights and a pair of twos.

“I didn’t realize you were so adept at poker, Miss Holt.”

She shrugged and said, “The hot streak from Vegas continues.”

“That was Craps,” he pointed out.

“You’re stalling, Mr. Steele. Pay up.”

“Perhaps you’re cheating?” he suggested. “Stacking the deck? Drawing from the bottom?”

She leaned forward, pushing the cards toward him. “You’re the one dealing. Perhaps *you’re* cheating.”

He tried to look affronted. “To make myself *lose*?”

“So we both win.” She grinned. “Drop your shorts.”

+++++++++++

NOW YOU STEELE IT, NOW YOU DON’T

The affair began that night based on unquestioned answers.

He loved her, but he didn’t examine the dubious way he came to the realization.

She saw him change, a softening of the edges, a less guarded nature; but she didn’t ask why or how.

Without negotiation or contract they agreed to terms; the line between the boardroom and the bedroom disappeared.

She didn’t stop and demand verbalizations. After, he didn’t hide from leg work and paper pushing.

Later, when it was all rather routine, he said the words. She accepted and returned them, for there was nothing left to question.

++++++++++++++++++

ILLUSTRATED STEELE

Remington relaxed in front of the roaring fire, a mug of hot buttered rum in hand. Skiing, a large dinner, the burn of the alcohol, and the heat of the fire all combined to leave his body exhausted and his mind pleasantly jumbled.

If he could end the evening wrapped in Laura’s arms, life would be perfect.

“You were impressive on the slopes,” he told his companion, drowsily.

Later, she stood and announced, “Bedtime.”

His clouded mind conjured images of him and Laura entwined beneath the comforter.

“Good night, boss,” his companion said.

Remington sighed as reality crushed his fantasy.

++++++++++++++++

STEELE IN THE CHIPS

“I had a one calorie cookie in my hand. Now it’s gone and I’m stuck with you,” Mildred told the celery stalk she held.

She hadn’t always been heavy. Back in her youth, she was thin, active.

It was the years at the IRS, sitting at a desk all day, eating government cafeteria food that added the pounds.

Miss Holt mentioned turning over a new leaf.

She’d already started a new chapter by leaving the IRS. Why not get active, too?

Yes! She would start today with a walk around the block. She put down the celery and stood up.

++++++++++++++++

STEELE TRYING

Bertha Melnick blubbered on about her brother being in trouble. Steele arched an eyebrow, but followed Laura to San Francisco.

They tracked Fred all over town – *again.* Through Hillsboro, to a topless bar, past the late Dr. Fishbane’s house, to a Chinese restaurant. At each location, Fred waved at them. Laura chuckled and shooed him onward. Steele frowned.

Eventually, the ended up at the Mark Hopkins Hotel.

“What are you playing at, Miss Holt?”

“Our last trip didn’t work out.” She gave him a key. “I thought we could try again.”

Steele smirked. “One room?”

“One bed.”

She kissed him.

++++++++++++

STEELE OF APPROVAL

Laura caught him packing. “You’re leaving?”

Steele nodded.

“I was very wrong,” she said.

“So was I.” He closed the suitcase, turned to leave, but she didn’t move.

“Don’t go.”

“I have to. I want things you aren’t willing to give.”

She gestured to the bed. “We can...”

“No.”

“If not that, then what?”

He bit his lip.

“Tell me,” she implored.

A long moment, then a deeply-drawn breath. “I want a home.”

“But you have...”

The dam broke, everything spilled out. “I want love. And a wife. Children. A damn dog!”

“With...me?”

“Yes.”

She smiled. “Sounds wonderful.”


	4. Season 4

STEELE SEARCHING, PART 1

Mildred’s hands shook, her heart pounded.

Those men.

Thieves.

Con men.

They were all the same man.

*Her boss.*

She walked slowly back to the hotel, the passports tucked in her purse, trying to process the information.

*Who is he?* She wondered. *WHAT is he?*

She’d trained with the IRS to spot fraud, yet a huge one had been in front of her for over a year!

With a gasp, she stopped walking. *Miss Holt.*

How could she possibly tell her? *Should* she tell her? It would devastate Miss Holt, professionally and personally.

Mildred decided to keep quiet…for now.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE SEARCHING, PART 2

They returned to the hotel in silence after another dead end.

Not the son of an earl.

Not Remington Steele.

Not even a borrowed Bogart name.

Not *anyone*.

Laura pressed the room key into his palm.

He closed his hand around hers. “You staying with Mildred?”

She looked up at him. “Are we still at that point?”

“I don’t want to be.”

“Neither do I.”

They entered the room together and she kissed him, worked at undoing his tie.

“You’re willing to do this with a nameless, homeless man?”

“I know who you are,” she said, “and so do you.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE BLUSHING

Mildred angled the open magazine, squinted her eyes, turned the magazine again. “Are you sure it’s her, boss?”

Steele hung up the phone after scribbling the address for Veenhoff Photography on a notepad. “I know her face,” he snapped.

She lowered the magazine and shook her head. “I’m not referring to her face.”

He avoided her gaze. Instead, he folded the paper, checked for keys and wallet, adjusted his tie.

“Really?” Mildred huffed. “All these years, all that...” she waved her hand vaguely, “...stuff between you two, and you can’t identify her naked?”

“Not for lack of trying,” he grumbled.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

GRAPPLING STEELE

Hearing the bell jingle, Darryl quickly added the last flower to the arrangement. He turned to greet his customer, but his smile faded.

“Get out.”

“Nice shop,” Steele said.

Darryl stung, having fallen for Steele’s adoring fan act. He hated himself that he still found *Harley* attractive.

“You’re lucky I didn’t sue you,” he growled.

Steele nodded. He pulled out a paper and cash. “I’d like to start a monthly delivery, and you seem like a very reputable business.”

Steele left and Darryl looked at the order: multiple arrangements for the retirement home up the street, enough for every resident.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

FORGED STEELE

Keyes double-parked, watching Steele exit the jail. Instead of him and Holt driving off, she got out of her car and they went walking.

*Hurry up...* he thought as he chewed on his cigar.

He glanced at Mildred next to him.

She claimed to be on his side now. He wasn’t so sure about that.

Steele pulled Holt in for a hug, then they were kissing. Keyes rolled his eyes. *Oh, for the love of...ugh!*

He checked Mildred again. She was smiling at the scene, a wistful look on her face. No, Keyes decided, he definitely didn’t trust her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

CORN FED STEELE

The long plane flight ended, but Mildred still had another two hour drive ahead of her.

“Hey, Millie,” she was greeted as she exited the plane.

“Dwight! I didn’t expect you here.”

The sheriff took her carry-on bag and shyly ducked his head. “I wouldn’t expect my guest to drive all that way.”

Mildred grasped his free hand. He was sweet and polite, and she was feeling brave. “Maybe we don’t have to drive back tonight.”

Dwight’s head snapped up. She tried to not look too eager. His surprise melted to a smile. “I suppose we could find a hotel.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

PREMIUM STEELE

As Steele supervised Lydon and O’Connell’s hand-over to the real police, Laura approached the man that helped them nab the suspects.

“We’ve not officially met.” She extended her hand. “I’m...”

“Laura Holt,” he finished for her, grasping her hand. “Monroe Henderson. Mick’s told me all about you.”

She huffed an angry breath. “*Mick’s* never mentioned you.”

“I prefer he doesn’t mention our inglorious past, what with me trying to better myself now.”

Laura nodded, understanding.

“He helped me reform,” Monroe continued, “just like you helped him.”

“And he told you that?” Laura said, doubtfully. “That I’ve helped him reform?”

“Repeatedly.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

COFFEE, TEA OR STEELE

Mildred sat uncomfortably on a folding chair through the entire multi-hour USC graduation ceremony; she then pushed her way through the crowd to find Marvin in his cap and gown, grasping his diploma.

“Congratulations!”

Marvin leaned in and hugged her tightly. “I have you to thank, Miss Krebs.”

“Nah. You’re a smart kid, you did this yourself.”

Marvin smiled proudly.

“Plans for your future?”

“I have a job interview with Unidac in their recovery department. Can I use you as a reference?”

“You sure you don’t want Mr. Steele? Or Miss Holt?”

“No. I want you, Miss Krebs. Definitely you.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

DANCER, PRANCER, DONNER AND STEELE

Laura entered Steele’s office and dropped a letter on his desk. She only looked this morose when INS reared its head.

“Gladys Lynch?” he questioned.

“Albert Hastings,” she answered.

He couldn’t place the name, so he glanced at the text. “*Evicted?*”

“He said he’d break the lease.”

“I thought the lawyers sorted all that out,” Steele said.

“Yes, well, the lease expired and he’s not renewing us.”

“He can’t.”

“He can and did.”

“What do we do?” he asked.

Laura sighed and looked around the office. He knew she was reliving half a decade of memories. “We move,” she choked.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE ON THE AIR

It was after midnight. So much paperwork, but Laura needed a break. She turned on the radio to 14-KROT.

“You just gotta spice things up,” the host was saying. “Try whipped cream and chocolate sauce.”

Some sort of cooking show, apparently.

But that *voice...*

“We’ll be right back with more from Dr. Krebs.”

So it *was* Mildred.

Laura, feeling cheeky, called into the station.

“You’re on the air with Krebs.”

“I’m thinking of having an affair with my boss.”

There was a silence, then a hearty laugh of recognition. “Honestly, caller, I thought you’d been sleeping with him for years.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE, INC.

Remington Steele Investigations, San Diego Office, officially opened with a pop of a Champagne cork.

Laura raised her flute. “To George Mulch whose idea finally bore fruit.”

“May he rest in peace,” Remington said, clinking their glasses together.

He then put a hand on the shoulder of the young detective who would be serving as head of the branch. “Congratulations, my boy. I’m sure you’ll do the home office proud.”

When the phone rang, Mildred snagged it, but quickly held out the receiver to the branch’s boss. “Sorry, old habits...”

The young detective smiled and took the phone. “Steele here.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE SPAWNING

Two boxes arrive, one for each of them, with Bingham Perret’s name as the return address.

“I’m afraid, Laura,” Steele says.

“Agreed. But we can’t just leave them here.”

“Ladies first.”

She bravely opens the flaps and pulls back, expecting something to spring out. When nothing unexpected happens, she investigates, finds packing materials, then...a replacement for her Correa lamp.

Steele opens his box, finds a bottle of Champagne. Older, rarer, much more expensive than the one Bing destroyed.

Steele reads the enclosed card, “With deepest apologies and greatest thanks. Your friend, Bing.”

Laura smiles. “Looks like Bing finally grew up.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

SUBURBAN STEELE

It was 9:15 and Laura was utterly exhausted. Kids were *finally* in bed, the house was blissfully quiet. She closed her eyes with a relieved sigh.

Her eyes popped back open when Remington slid into bed next to her.

“Mr. Steele,” she hissed, “there are children in this house.”

“Each of them sawing logs,” he assured, pulling her close, his fingers questing.

“We can’t –” She gasped when his fingers found and probed. “ – do this here.”

Despite her protest, her hand went to his waistband, dipped inside, gripped, fondled. He groaned.

“Quietly,” she admonished, covering his mouth with hers.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

SANTA CLAUS IS COMING TO STEELE

Wally crouched on the fire escape. It was a good place. He could take the best pictures from here.

Laura was late; should have been home an hour ago. Awhile longer. He could wait for his love.

But when she did arrive, *he* was with her.

They were laughing. Having wine. *Kissing!*

Wally bit his lip hard to keep from whining.

*He* was making her betray him. Wally knew she didn’t care for that man. She couldn’t possibly love someone so egotistical.

Tomorrow she’d receive the watch. She would then know what true love from a real man felt like.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE BLUE YONDER

Remington raised his glass. “We’re here today to honor Johnny Cooper, Last of the Flying Aces. He was a true American hero in every sense of the word. He was also a good friend and a hell of a card player.”

“To Johnny,” Laura said.

“To Dad,” Johnny’s daughter said.

They all drank, turned over their glasses and placed them upside down on the table, as a full glass stood in the center.

“My father had a final message for you, Mr. Steele,” Miss Cooper said.

“Yes?”

“He said you still owe him five dollars from your last poker game.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

SENSITIVE STEELE

#16/81 Sensitive Steele

When he stopped for gas, Laura snuck another look at his letter.

Such a simple note, some lines serious, some fun, some written as single words, others as short sentences.

And two lines starting with *U.*

That seemed odd.

*Vibrant* was in there, too. As was *youthful.*

She reread the words.

How had she not spotted it the first time?

Each capital letter jumped out now, literally spelling out:

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U-L-A-U-R-A.

Remington got back in the car, saw the letter in her hands, and apparently knew she’d figured it out because he looked wary.

“I love you, too,” she said.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE IN THE SPOTLIGHT

“How do you do it?” Laura asked as they walked.

“Do what?”

“Deal with the celebrity aspect. You make it seem effortless.”

Steele shrugged noncommittally.

“I’m serious. I made a disaster of it, but you...”

They continued strolling along in silence and she decided he’d never share his secret. Then his hand laced with hers, squeezed.

“A neglected child,” he sighed, “overcompensating as an adult in the most Hollywood way he knows how.”

She stopped and stared up at him.

His wistful expression transformed into a showman smile, hiding away the moment of raw honesty. “More likely my natural charisma.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE AT YOUR SERVICE

Laura was bent over a hay bale, fingers clutching straw, arms leveraging against the unsteady surface.

Remington had one hand pulling on her hip, the other clasping a breast through her clothing, as he slowly drove into her over and over.

No time to undress, only enough time to feel, to enjoy, as thunder claps hid the sound of their thighs smacking together, as heavy rain muffled their groans.

When it was over, she turned her head, seeking his lips.

“Never thought you’d agree to a barn,” he muttered against her.

“Been on my list ever since Ireland,” she smiled.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE IN THE RUNNING

6:13 a.m.

*One day left.* Laura pushed to make today’s ride in 73 minutes. She checked her watch. *Too slow.* She adjusted in the saddle and peddled harder.

12:48 p.m.

*I knew he’d think I’m crazy.* She crawled across the pool. * I probably am crazy to do this.*

5:36 p.m.

“Footloose” blasted when she hit *play* on her Walkman. *Sixty minutes. You’ve got this.* Her sneakers hit the pavement.

6:40 p.m.

Remington was in her loft cooking a spaghetti dinner.

Her stomach growled at the delicious smell.

“How do you know about carb loading?” she asked.

He just smiled.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

BEG, BORROW OR STEELE

Laura helped Murphy with his bow tie.

"Brought *him*, I see," he said.

She tightened the knot with a jerk.

"Sorry," he choked. "That was uncalled for."

She loosened the knot and finished the bow. He grabbed her hands before she could lower them.

"You know I’ll always love you, right?" She opened her mouth to protest, but he plowed ahead, "I just want you to be happy, Laura. Does *he* make you happy?"

"Does Sherry make *you* happy, Murph?"

He thought of his wife-to-be. "I love her unlike anyone else."

She smiled. "And there you have it."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE ALIVE AND KICKING

Steele examined himself in the mirror.

He clenched his abs, flexed his biceps.

Laura had just finished a triathlon, yet he couldn’t successfully do a pull-up.

It was unlike him to be critical of his physical appearance. But a lifetime of relying on his enviable metabolism also left him a bit...small...in comparison to men like Tony Petz.

He didn’t want to be a beefcake, but perhaps he would check out his building’s fitness center in the morning. Lift a few weights, do a bit of cardio.

Then maybe he could make out better with that one particular “chick...”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

BONDS OF STEELE

Laura stood alone at the bow of the ship.

*“Would you have married me?”*

*“Of course not!”*

If her business partner had asked for help, she would have refused.

If her best friend was desperate for assistance, she would have said no.

If the man she had loved for years pleaded for her aid, she would have turned away.

If Remington Steele got down on bended knee for no other reason than to ask for her hand, she would have declined.

Because she had a point to make.

Unfortunately, for the life of her, she didn’t know what it was.


	5. Season 5

THE STEELE THAT WOULDN’T DIE (2 hour episode, 200 words)

*No wedding rings,* Tony pointed out. Laura remedied that, digging out the Peppler rings. For two years, the cheap bands served as props at every mandated INS meeting.

She grumbled as she tore apart her office, unable to find them for their last INS appointment.

Remington entered, leaned against a cabinet.

"We're late. Help me find the Peppler rings," she ordered.

He reached out for the desktop, as she continued pawing through drawers. When she turned she saw the familiar black box sitting atop some folders.

"You found them," she sighed, popping the lid.

Sitting in place of the usual plain bands were two heavier gold rings inlayed with tiny diamonds around their circumferences.

"It's time we stop using Peppler rings and start using Steele rings," he said.

Refusing to acknowledge the fluttering in her chest, Laura plucked her ring from the box. "It's too pretty to sit in a drawer after today's meeting."

He took the ring and slid it on her finger. "Then you'll have to wear it all the time."

She intercepted as he reached for his own. Taking his hand in hers, she eased the ring down his finger.

"Only if you wear yours, too."

"Always."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE HANGING IN THERE, PART 1

“Miss Holt,” Lynch greasily greeted.

“Steele.”

“Your fake husband is a citizen now.”

“Eight months ago.”

“Celebrated, apparently.”

No reaction.

Lynch slid her a paper. “You may want to ask him about his *other* wife and their children, Derrick and Bettina.”

The color drained from Holt’s face.

“He never mentioned any of them?” she practically sang.

Holt picked up the paper and said, “I don’t know what you’re playing at...”

But Lynch could see her fingers shaking.

“Wrapping up my cases before retirement,” Lynch oozed. “That’s all. Have a good day.”

Clearly dazed, the very pregnant Holt left. Lynch smiled.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELE HANGING IN THERE, PART 2

He shouldn’t be focusing on it. Certainly not *now.* But he can still picture Laura kissing Tony.

He exhales harshly.

“Something wrong?” Laura asks.

He’s reluctant to say. He’s already too vulnerable, too raw.

“Tell me,” she prods.

“Roselli,” he grits. “If you...prefer him –”

“You can’t be serious.”

He is, and she apparently realizes it.

“No,” she states. “I don’t prefer him. Things were...bad...between you and me, and I...*we*...made some terrible mistakes. But I’m exactly where I want to be now.”

He nods and tightens his arm around her bare shoulders. “As am I.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

STEELED WITH A KISS (2 hour episode, 200 words)

The crumpled envelope was addressed to her. Copious postmarks and a dated letter indicated Daniel mailed it three years earlier; the day she'd discovered the truth about him...

The letter explained that should he not find the courage to tell Steele the truth, he trusted Laura to do it. She ground her teeth at his audacity.

The accompanying photo was of a youthful Daniel and dark-haired woman whose eyes shined with an all-too familiar joy. On the back: the woman's name.

Laura blinked back sudden tears. Two words and Daniel had given her everything she'd need to track Remington's roots.

-0-0-0-

Past battled Future for top billing in the inevitable conversation, but her decision was moot when Remington entered her office unexpectedly and saw the photo.

"I can do some digging..." she offered.

He stared at the image.

"My mother," he said thickly.

She touched his shoulder and he looked up, no attempt to hide the tears, yet he still forced a smile. "You always know about my family members before I do."

Laura swallowed as Future took center stage. It wasn't how she'd intended to inform him, but they'd been trying for a while now. "Funny you should say that..."


	6. Epilogue

STEELING AN UNEXPECTED EPILOGUE

“Daniel,” he began, “she...” No need to say who *she* was, Daniel knew his current lover. “She’s pregnant.”

The statement hung heavily.

“I know you think it’s a mistake,” he continued, as he squashed the anger he felt at his own childhood, his lack of parents. “But *I’m* not going to abandon my family.”

A tear escaped, trailed down his cheek.

He stared at Daniel’s face, the older man’s expression never changing.

A hand touched his shoulder. “Does Grandpa approve?” Laura asked.

Remington studied photo of Daniel again, thought that perhaps his father was smiling more now. “Yes, he does.”


End file.
